


Mirror Souls

by Aledhwen



Series: Regis' Wonderful Hugs [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Blood and Wine (The Witcher 3 DLC) Spoilers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Hugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:55:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24459325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aledhwen/pseuds/Aledhwen
Summary: Coming back from a contract, Geralt stops by Regis home. Upset by what he has seen, Regis is there to take care of him and comfort him. Story told through both points of views : Geralt's and Regis'.[Beware B&W Spoilers!]
Relationships: Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy/Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Series: Regis' Wonderful Hugs [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1766671
Comments: 6
Kudos: 83





	1. The healer...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmeliaXOXO](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmeliaXOXO/gifts), [squiddtastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/squiddtastic/gifts).



> [Blood and Wine Spoilers!] 
> 
> Set after Blood and Wine expansion, assuming the "happy ending" and the fact that Regis left for Nilfgaard.
> 
> I hope you will like this :) As usual, the main objective of my series about Regis is to picture him hugging people. And I particularly like to explore his relation with Geralt, through friendship or more.
> 
> Inspired by Squiddtastic's work, dedicated to them and my ever muse, Amelia.

Regis was bending over a couple of very rare scrolls he had acquired during his last visit in the City of Golden Towers, the Nilfgaardian capital. 

"Fascinating..." He whispered to himself.

He examined a complex drawing which represented the healing process of human heart tissues affected by a particularly nasty disease called the Korath Worm, which seemed to have originated in the Korath Desert, and which had been plaguing most of his patients for the last couple of months. Next to the drawing was the formula of a concoction that was supposed to play a key role in the regeneration of the tissues. This could very well be the missing piece he had been looking for since the first time a person bearing that disease had walked through his door seeking his help. While he stroked his chin pensively, a very familiar scent suddenly came to his awareness.

He's coming.

Straigthening up at once, Regis closed his eyes and hummed the air again. Yes, he was certain. A smile slowly lit his face, and he strode towards the alcove he had comfortably arranged for receiving patients and treating them. He lit a fire in the hearth, and proceeded to tidying up his instruments. He was checking he still had some mandrake brew, when he heard a whiney from outside. In a hurry to see his friend, he strode towards his door and opened it, casting the warm light of his home on Roach's silhouette. 

"Good evening, my dear Roach. Thank you for taking our precious friend to my care."

Regis gently patted Roach's head, and proceeded to help Geralt down.

"Here, Geralt, let me help you." 

He extended his arm, and Geralt grabbed it. Regis helped the witcher get down, and hugged him briefly before holding him at arm's length to inspect him with a professional eye.

"Tsk-tsk...Geralt dear, you look positively awful."

"Thank you Regis, back at you." Geralt answered with a soft smile.

Regis chuckled.

"Ah, your sense of humour is as sharp as ever though, that's a good sign. Let us get inside, shall we?"

Regis put his arm around Geralt's shoulders and pulled him along towards his small cottage. He led him inside, and closed the door behind them. He heard Roach immediately go to the special spot he had arranged for her, in the perspective of Geralt's visits: a small shed at the back of the house, filled with straw and equiped with water buckets and baskets full of apples and vegetables. 

Still holding Geralt to him, Regis took him to the patient alcove and stopped before the bed.

"Sit there." He said

"I"m fine, Regis, I don't need..."

"Tsk-Tsk...Doctor's orders, Geralt." Regis said, raising a clawed finger.

He smiled fondly when he saw Geralt roll his eyes but oblige his command. He let the witcher strip of his armor and swords, having sensed that he was not injured. 

Well, at least physically, he thought, feeling deep inside that something was off with his friend.

He washed his hands in the stone basin that he had installed in the corner, and then turned his attention back to his dear patient.

"So, how are you doing, Geralt?", Regis started, as usual when he was examining the witcher and tending to his wounds.

"'m fine, doctor." Geralt groaned.

Regis chuckled and stepped behind Geralt.

"Come on, Geralt dear, don't be so skulky. You know how very much I adore fussing all over you." 

He probed his friend's lower back, closing his eyes to feel Geralt's internal organs.

"Yeah, a real mother hen." 

"Do I detect a note of sarcasm?" Regis inquired.

"Not at all", Geralt sighed, his voice full of irony. 

Regis had a genuine smile, while expertly resting his hands on Geralt's liver. He paused for a moment, casting his mind to the skin of his hands, feeling every contraction of the organ, picturing in his mind how it was filtering the potions Geralt had apparently absorbed a few hours ago. When he was confident it was healthy, Regis moved his hands to Geralt's lungs. He could feel the tiny, extremely discrete vibrations in the witcher's skin, betraying the pleasure Regis was sure Geralt was feeling everytime he did that. Although he knew the witcher would rather cut his own tongue than admit to Regis that he liked being touched and taken care of.

After a careful examination, Regis sighed contentedly, satisfied by Geralt's state. However, he was puzzled by the way the witcher's muscles were contracted. As Regis had felt as soon as his friend had arrived, something clearly had upset Geralt, and that something was still weighing on the witcher's mind. 

"My good friend, you are in brilliant shape, apart from the awful knots twisting the muscles of your back. What in the world had you so worried?" Regis asked tentatively, massaging Geralt's shoulders. 

He felt more than saw Geralt grimace in pain, and tried to be as gentle as possible while nonetheless fighting with the incredibly tensed muscles.

"Bah.. You know, usual stuff." Geralt said evasively.

Regis frowned, but was not surprised. It was going to take a good deal of finesse to make Geralt talk about himself. He turned around, grabbed a clay pot on one of the shelves, and opened it. He delved his hands inside the thick paste which strongly smelled of chamomile and lavender. He covered his hands in it, and turned back to Geralt. 

"What did you say was your last contract?" Regis asked.

"I didn't." 

Regis rolled his eyes while applying the cool paste on Geralt's mortified back, causing a soft groan to escape from the witcher's lips. While his hands glided over the white wolf's many scars, Regis decided he had to resort to humour in order to break through Geralt's barrier. 

"Come on, Geralt, how do you expect to stop me from boring your ears off, as you so endearingly say, if you will not engage in some kind of conversation?"

Geralt chuckled, which Regis considered as a small victory in itself. But soon, the white wolf turned silent once more, and he waited for a few minutes before talking again.

"For once I would rather listen to one of your monologues, my vampiric friend, he said softly. 'ts been a long time." 

The underlying sadness pointing through Geralt's voice caused Regis' heart to constrict a little. Something was definitely wrong, if the white wolf was himself asking for one of the vampire's long lectures.

"You mean four months." Regis pointed, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yeah well...'guess I can' t get enough of you right? Anyway, you still good here? People treating you all right?" 

Regis decided against pushing Geralt into talking. He still had to get through his hardened shell, and the best way to do that was to give Geralt the illusion he had moved on, so that the witcher would let his guard down. So Regis, while massaging the witcher's back, started talking.

"Well, you know, things are still going well since your last visit. I even dare to believe that people have grown quite fond of me, especially children. I am a healing figure, of course, but I think they also look up to me as a sort of confident. Quite a lot of people come to me to discuss personal issues actually. I have often found myself holding a crying soul looking for a bit of warmth and comfort. But it does not bother me though. I like the feeling of protection and advice I can give them. This is especially true with the orphans...which are more and more numerous with the war going on. Poor things... So fragile...Anyway, this role people project on me tends to lead to...ah...some awkward situations, if I might be so bold as to resort to such understatement. Remember the old Colridge widow I told you about during your last visit? Well believe it or not, she eventually found the courage to confess her love for me. Rather boldly, I daresay. She came here one night, completely naked, and she very thoroughly attempted to sexually assault me. In five centuries of existence, I do not recall experiencing such a dreadfully embarrassing circumstance."

Geralt chuckled, and for a moment, Regis hoped he had succeded in getting under his skin.

"Well I am pleased you find this amusing, because I certainly did not, I can assure you."

"Ah, I'm sorry Regis, I was just... You know..." 

Regis shook his head and smiled amusingly as he understood that Geralt had probably not listened to a word of his lecture.

"Ah, and here I was, thinking I was actually funny. But you were not listening to my "pompous perorations", as our dear Dandelion so kindly puts it, were you now? " Regis said, stepping from behind Geralt, his hands still covered in paste. 

"Bah, I listened to the beginning, and I fell asleep halfway through it." Geralt teased him. 

Regis laughed genuinely and went to wash his hands once again. Behind him, Geralt groaned in satisfaction, indicating to Regis that the higher vampire had done a good job in putting his muscles at ease.

"Thank you, Regis." Geralt sighed.

"My pleasure, dear Geralt." Regis answered. 

He finished washing his hands, and then turned around to face Geralt. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. 

All right. Let us try again, Regis thought.

"Now it is time to tend to your soul, Geralt. Will you please tell me what is going on in that white head of yours?" Regis asked gently. 

Geralt did not answer at once. Regis observed the witcher while the latter was grabbing his shirt and putting it back on. Then he started fiddling with the sheets of the bed, carefully avoiding to look at Regis. The vampire was painfully aware that his friend was trying to earn some time. He was always amazed by Geralt's firm intention not to talk about himself. Yet Regis was a vampire, and thus he was immensely patient. He kept staring at Geralt, well determined not to let this go. Therefore, when Geralt risked an eye up to him, Regis was calmly waiting.

"Ah, you will not let this go, will you?" Geralt grunted, smiling sheepishly.

"Indeed I will not, my friend. I care for you much too deeply for that." 

Geralt sighed. 

"I was just thinking that sometimes I am ashamed of being human." 

Although Regis' heart tightened at the depth of the sadness and weariness he could grasp in these words, he remained silent. This way, he hoped Geralt would understand that Regis was giving him space, not pressuring him into talking, but always there for him. After a while, Geralt continued.

"People can be so selfish. So damn stupid and short-sighted. Nothing matters except their own comfort and habits. They don't listen, and they destroy everything in their path without a single thought. They..." 

Geralt shook his head, and sighed again, and his eyes wandered into nothingness, indicating that the witcher had got lost into his mind. Regis decided to reach him there and softly bring him back to him.

"Did something particular occur that would maybe illustrate your feeling?" He asked prudently.

Geralt didn't say anything. He seemed tired, immensely weary, and Regis could feel that the man didn't know how to put his feelings into words. He also suspected Geralt felt guilty, scorning himself for feeling as he did, and thus trying to push down his emotions. 

"Bah. Drop it, Regis. It's just not worth it." Geralt said, comfirming Regis' instincts.

"There is no need to look tough before me, my friend. I'm here for you." Regis said softly, trying to pour as much love and affection he could in his voice.

"I'm not playing tough. I'm just saying it's not worth talking about, y'know? That's life."

In the way Geralt abruptly stopped, Regis knew that the witcher was angry at himself for already talking too much. The vampire sighed internally, while Geralt retreated into a stubborn silence, staring at the floor, his knuckles white as he gripped the bed. The white wolf never showed his feelings. He always faced the world with cheekiness and defiance, with humour and self reliance. But Regis knew him so well, certainly better than anyone. And at this precise moment, as often, he knew that words were not enough. Therefore, the vampire pushed himself off the thatch wall and made his way towards Geralt. Without a word, he reached out his arms and pulled the witcher into a tight, powerful hug, tucking his face in his shoulder. 

Regis had a specific way of embracing people : slowly, but confidently, because he knew as a surgeon (and a friend, in this case) that it was the best remedy for them at this precise moment. He would then remain immobile, waiting for the other person to relax and feel comfortable in his arms. If he felt the other person was really sad or frightened, he would often start rocking them softly, stroking their head, to show them it was okay if they collapsed and cried in his chest. He was there. It was particularly efficient with the orphans, especially the very young, who were so vulnerable and lost. Regis often found himself covered in tears and snot. Yet he loved the feeling of making these small, weak creatures feel loved and protected for at least an hour, before they ran out of his reach and were swallowed back in this hard, hostile world. He loved humans dearly, and children especially touched him deeply, because they were so desperately fragile.

And yet amongst humans, Geralt touched him even more. It seemed rather paradoxical. The white wolf was indeed a tough one. He was not prone to show his emotions easily, and always hid behind the excuse of his mutations not to talk about himself. But Regis could see right through him. He could always read him like an open book, understand his slightest expressions. He could feel an inner sadness and weariness that Geralt had been accumulating through the years. Regis had not been a stranger to that sadness : he knew his own death had deeply affected his friend. That is why he was glad that life had finally decided to be kind to Geralt: he had been given an entire estate in the beautiful duchy of Toussaint, and he knew that Geralt was never alone there. Barnabas Basil and Marlene were good friends before being servants, and Geralt often huffed, trying to sound annoyed, that he didn't have one moment of peace with all the friends stopping by and staying with him, sometimes for weeks. 

And Regis was there.

Even though it was extremely risky for him to venture in Toussaint, the higher vampire sometimes dropped by Corvo Bianco to see how Geralt was doing. He considered himself as Geralt's personal doctor. After all, the white wolf was starting to get old, and Regis wanted to be sure he was always in top health, not taking (too many) unnecessary risks. It had already been a few years since they had to deal with Dettlaff in Beauclair, and so they had plenty of time to catch up and talk at length, whether it was in Corvo Bianco or in Regis' new headquarters in Nilfgaard. And the more they talked, the more Regis grew fond of that man, if that was even possible. 

Yes, Regis thought while holding his dear friend to him, closing his eyes and devoting his entire being to radiating comfort and affection. Geralt was an exceptional being, all in contrasts. His inherent fragility was like a delicate glass petal encased in a battered, but extremely strong steel frame. Slowly, but surely, Regis and all Geralt's dear ones were stitching the wounds caused by the long life of a solitary wolf, and Regis was well determined to play no small part in the healing process. 

After a time, Geralt let out a deep sigh, and Regis felt him let go and bury his face further into his shoulder. The vampire smiled tenderly, his heart filling with love. Slowly, he started rocking the white wolf from left to right, still saying nothing. What was there to say? The way Geralt's body relaxed and abandoned itself in his arms, seeking Regis' warmth and love, said it all.


	2. ...and the wolf

The night was falling softly on the Nilfgaardian empire, slowly wrapping the world into its velvet coat. As the villages, one by one, went to sleep, a solitary figure was passing through them, hunched on their loyal horse. You know them of course : Geralt of Rivia, and his faithful companion Roach. The witcher had just completed a particularly tricky contract. Although he had not sustained any wounds, he was physically and mentally exhausted, and he was barely thinking about the road. Roach, as often, was taking upon herself to lead her master and friend to the place that would best match his current needs. In this case, she was expertly trotting along the nightly roads, avoiding the deep woods, heading towards a place that would provide Geralt with warmth, protection and healing. After a while, she gave a small whiney and diverted from the main road to head through the thick bushes and into a small forest, as though to warn her human friend that she knew what she was doing. 

"Yeah, I know Roach...I trust you...", Geralt said, patting her on the back, having always known, deep inside, where she was taking him.

He let her guide him, closing his eyes. Sometimes, being alone with Roach was salutary, because he desperately needed to get far from humans, who disappointed him so much. There was no deceit in Roach's affection for him. No lying, no hypocrisy. She was always faithful, and all in all, Geralt knew he could always rely upon her.

Like him, Geralt thought vaguely.

The tought had barely crossed his mind that Roach gave another whiney, and stopped. Before Geralt could get off her, a familiar scent and voice made his heart warm considerably.

"Good evening, my dear Roach. Thank you for taking our precious friend to my care."

Geralt opened his eyes and watched Regis pat Roach's head gently, before stepping towards Geralt and reaching out his arm.

"Here, Geralt, let me help you." 

Geralt grabbed his arm, and let Regis pull him down gently. He answered Regis' brief hug by squeezing him against his hard armor, happy to see him as usual. But soon, Regis pulled away and examined Geralt from head to toe, his face reproachful.

"Tsk-tsk...Geralt dear, you look positively awful."

"Thank you Regis, back at you." Geralt answered with a soft smile.

Regis chuckled.

"Ah, your sense of humour is as sharp as ever though, that's a good sign. Let us get inside, shall we? "

Regis put his arm around Geralt's shoulders and pulled him along towards his home. After he was banished by the vampiric community of Toussaint, he had left the duchy and headed towards Niflgaard. He had settled down in an abandoned cottage, near a tiny village bordered by a thick forest. Barely a few months after he arrived, the vampire had made himself a cosy home, lightly but efficiently furnished. He had arranged a small part of the main room for receiving and treating patients, shielded from view by a thatch screen. Next to where his patients laid, he had arranged a bed for himself, so that he would never be far in case they needed him. The rest of the room was covered in books, sketches and glass bottles with colorful contents. Each time Geralt entered Regis' new lair, he felt a familiar feeling, like home. The place was overwhelmed with the vampire's personality : elegant, scholarly, but warm and safe.

Regis took Geralt to the patient alcove.

"Sit there."

"Regis..."

"Tsk-Tsk...Doctor's orders, Geralt."

Geralt rolled his eyes and sighed, but obeyed nonetheless. He put his swords in the rack beside the bed, and started taking his armor and underlying linen shirt off. When he had laid these down as well, he sat on the bed. The vampire washed his hands and then came to examine him. 

"So, how are you doing Geralt?" Regis started, as usual. 

"'m fine, doctor." Geralt groaned.

He heard Regis chuckle while moving behind him. 

"Come on, Geralt dear, don't be so skulky. You know how very much I adore fussing all over you." 

Deep inside, Geralt felt a nut of warmth invade his chest, and he couldn't help but smiling as well. 

"Yeah, a real mother hen." 

"Do I detect a note of sarcasm?" Regis inquired.

"Not at all", Geralt sighed, his voice full of irony. 

He felt Regis expert hands moving on his body, pausing here and there, and Geralt knew the vampire was literally feeling his internal organs, searching for any anomaly. Even though he felt troubled in admitting it, Geralt liked the vampire's touch. If he had been a cat, he would certainly have purred, although he would never tell Regis. 

After a while, Regis sighed contentedly, as though reassured by Geralt's state. 

"My good friend, you are in brilliant shape, apart from the awful knots twisting the muscles of your back. What in the world had you so worried?" Regis said, massaging Geralt's shoulders. 

Geralt grimaced in pain as Regis hands fought against his tensed muscles. 

"Bah.. You know, usual stuff." Geralt said evasively.

He could almost hear Regis frown behind him, while a sudden, pungent chamomile and lavender scent wafted through Geralt's nostrils, telling him the vampire was preparing to literally butter him up with some kind of complex balm. 

"What did you say was your last contract?"

"I didn't." 

Geralt couldn't help a soft groan to escape his lips when Regis started applying the cool paste on his back. 

"Come on, Geralt, how do you expect to stop me from boring your ears off, as you so endearingly say, if you will not engage in some kind of conversation?" Regis said while massaging his shoulders gently but firmly with the paste. 

Geralt couldn't help but chuckle, but soon his face turned back to a pensive frown. 

"For once I would rather listen to one of your monologues, my vampiric friend, he said softly. 'ts been a long time." 

"You mean four months." Regis pointed. 

"Yeah well...'guess I can' t get enough of you right? Anyway, you still good here? People treating you all right?" 

Regis seemed to give up trying to have him talk about what was bothering him, but Geralt knew him well. He would eventually get back to it, he was certain of it. For now, the vampire launched himself into a long speech while tending to Geralt's tortured muscles. As usual, Geralt was happy to know that the vampire had found a new home for himself. People loved and respected him, and children adored him. Regis was seen as a healer, but also some kind of wisdom figure, to whom people talked about their issues, and from whom they got comfort and attention. Once a week, Regis walked the nearby towns to assist orphans in the streets, to stitch up their wounds and give them some food. Geralt was certain that in a couple of decades, if not before, Regis could very well turn into some kind of benevolent God in the eyes of the local peasants. 

He chuckled at the thought. 

"Well I am pleased you find this amusing, because I certainly did not, I can assure you." 

"Ah, I'm sorry Regis, I was just... You know..." 

"Ah, and here I was, thinking I was actually funny. But you were not listening to my "pompous perorations", as our dear Dandelion so kindly puts it, were you now? " Regis said, emerging from behind Geralt, his hands still covered in paste. Despite his reproachful tone, he was smiling amusingly. 

"Bah, I listened to the beginning, and I fell asleep halfway through it." Geralt teased him. 

Regis laughed heartedly and went to wash his hands once again. Geralt moved his shoulders a bit, and groaned in satisfaction. Regis was truly a magician. The balm was warm on his skin, and his muscles were finally at ease. 

"Thank you, Regis." He sighed.

"My pleasure, dear Geralt." Regis answered. 

He finished washing his hands, and then turned around to face Geralt. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. 

Ah. Here we go, Geralt thought.

"Now it is time to tend to your soul, Geralt. Will you please tell me what is going on in that white head of yours?" Regis asked gently. 

Geralt did not answer at once. He tried to earn some time by grabbing his linen shirt and putting it back on. Then he fiddled the sheets of the bed with his fingers, and observed a tiny insect scurry along the leg of the stool that was standing not far from the bed. Soon, he had nothing else to do. He raised his eyes back to Regis, and of course, the vampire was still looking at him, waiting. 

"Ah, you will not let this go, will you?" He grunted, smiling in spite of himself.

"Indeed I will not, my friend. I care for you much too deeply for that." 

Geralt sighed. 

"I was just thinking that sometimes I am ashamed of being human." 

Regis did not say a thing. Geralt knew he was waiting for the witcher to go on. 

"People can be so selfish. So damn stupid and short-sighted. Nothing matters except their own comfort and habits. They don't listen, and they destroy everything in their path without single thought. They..." 

Geralt shook his head, and sighed again, getting lost in his own thoughts. After a while, Regis prudently asked. 

"Did something particular occur that would maybe illustrate your feeling?"

Geralt didn't say anything. He felt tired, weary, but he didn't know how to express his feelings to Regis. It felt foolish, besides. Yeah, life was unfair, like it was for millions of wretched souls in this damn world. Big deal. 

"Bah. Drop it, Regis. It's just not worth it." He said.

"There is no need to look tough before me, my friend. I'm here for you." Regis said softly. 

"I'm not playing tough. I'm just saying it's not worth talking about, y'know? That's life."

Geralt stopped himself before talking too much. He felt embarrassed. Regis was like family, but still. He was supposed to be a witcher. A witcher has no emotions. Mutations, see? Feeling particularly vulnerable in his linen shirt, Geralt stubbornly stared at the floor, wrapping himself in silence. 

After a short time, he felt Regis move, and soon, he found himself in the higher vampire's arms, his temple brushing against Regis' soft sideburns. Regis never said a word. He had just embraced him slowly, as though it was the most natural thing to do, and he was now holding him in a powerful hold, yet tender and warm. Geralt felt awkward at first, even though Regis had already hugged him more than once. Yet, like each time the vampire gratified him with one of his so special, attentive hugs, Geralt found himself struggling with his emotions. Like each time, he started by breathing deeply in Regis' complex scent, where notes of wormwood danced with anise in a subtle, refined ballet. Like each time, he closed his eyes for a moment, and let himself be carried away by his friend's embrace. 

Regis had a poweful calming, comforting aura. Geralt didn't doubt for a second it was particularly important for a healer and surgeon, and it certainly explained why Regis was so good with children. He had this unique power to put Geralt's mind at ease, not unlike when he applied some perfumed balm on a nasty wound. Even though he tried, Geralt knew he could never hide his feelings from Regis, especially when he shut himself in a painful silence. Every time, Regis would reach out and touch his heart, in a blink of a eye.

He was particularly grateful for having the higher vampire back in his life, and happy that even with the way things had ended in their last mission together in Toussaint, he had never lost him again. Along the years, Geralt had got used to see Regis regularly, as they had implicitly decided that Regis was Geralt's official doctor. The vampire liked to tease Geralt by telling him he was getting old, making the white wolf huff and growl. Yet deep inside, Geralt was glad of this arrangement, because he was very deeply attached to Regis. Mostly, Geralt would travel to Nilfgaard to see him and spend a couple of days with him. Yet Regis had himself started visiting him in Corvo Bianco, although never for long, as his presence was not tolerated by the other vampires of the realm. Still, he would occasionally drop by, and it offered the perfect excuse for having a good time around a bottle of wine, talking through the end of the night. Sometimes they were alone together, and other times they were accompanied by Marlene and Barnabas and some other friends, like Ciri or Dandelion. Regularly, Regis' coming coincidated with that of Triss and Yennefer, and the three of them would immediately stuff themselves in Geralt's alchemy lab, brewing potions like children playing dolls.

Yes, Geralt thought, like each time, inhaling Regis' scent, immensely calmed by his arms wrapped tightly around him. Life had finally decided to show some gratitude to Geralt. He had a home and dear friends that formed a colorful family, Regis among them. But Regis was truly exceptional. The vampire was an embodied paradox : immensely powerful, staggeringly dangerous, he was also a self-sacrifying, loyal friend who had devoted his life to making amends for the horrors he had commited in his young years. To Geralt's eyes, there were few things as endearing as the sight of Regis comforting a dirty child, a sick woman, or a traumatized war veteran. The vampire held human life deeply dear, like an everlasting oak tending to an ephemeral flower, with infinite devotion. Beneath the monster that everyone would blindly see should he reveal himself, Regis was a true guardian of humanity, and was himself so much more human than most. For all these reasons, Regis held a special, very deep place within Geralt's heart, and he was as good a healer for his body as he was for his soul. 

Finally, like each time, Regis' embrace and aura broke through his barrier, like the rays of the sun cracking through a dark, damp cave. For a moment, he allowed himself to let go of his tough appearance, and he let his guard down. Pretty ironic, he thought briefly, before letting his face bury itself deeper in Regis' shoulder, drowning in his scent and affection. Like each time, it seemed to be a signal for Regis, who started rocking him slowly, without saying a word. What was there to say? The way he was holding Geralt, with infinite love and tenderness, said it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you took as much pleasure reading that short fic as I did while writing it!


End file.
